


NaNoWriMo 2020: Drabbles and Ideas

by asexual_axolotl



Category: Original Work, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: (kind of?), Adventurer - Freeform, Animals, Apocalypse, Auction, Bad Parents, Blood, Board Games, Bunkers, Butlers, Canon Non-Binary Character, Checkers, Cousins, D&D inspired, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fanfiction, Fantasy, Funeral, Gambling, Gen, Ghosts, Heroes, Home Alone, Horror, How Do I Tag, Hunting, Incomplete Stories, Inheritance, Introvert, Kidnapping, Merpeople, Mirrors, Multi, NaNoWriMo, NaNoWriMo 2020, Original Fiction, Original Quirk, Other, Plot Twists, Princess - Freeform, Royalty, Servants, Sirens, Sorry:(, Stimming, Supernatural Elements, Timelines, Villains, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, bones - Freeform, crowbar - Freeform, danger noodle, dangerous person, dead grandpa, fake parents, getting that cash money, i really don't know how to tag lol, more like 11.000, poem, wanderer - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27689017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexual_axolotl/pseuds/asexual_axolotl
Summary: My submission for NaNoWriMo 2020. I finished early this year and wanted to get it out somewhere. Just and idea dump for stuff that came to mind. Several of these are incomplete/will never be completed/leave off in a weird place. Idk, I just thought some people would want to read it.
Kudos: 1





	1. Dating the Villain (finished)

Dating the villain doesn't seem so harsh. 'Cause you know if they ever lost you they would tear the world apart.   
Dating the villain doesn't seem so bad. 'Cause they're always quite handsome and you can force them to hold your hand.   
And even when they're mean, they'll never leave you on seen.   
And if anyone hurts your feelings they'll break their face.   
They'll spoil you with riches that they went out an stole.   
To them you'd be their diamonds, their rubies, and their gold

Yeah, dating the villain of the story isn't as bad as people make it out to be. Most of the time they just want someone to love them despite their flaws, and possible war crimes. It's easy to do once you get to know them and make sure they don't want to kill you. Along with their unquestionable love, you also get a new family. A family of other villains who will make up for your shitty childhood. It's pretty great until someone comes home covered in blood. And most of the time you can't tell if it's theirs or another person's.

It's like a dysfunctional family that's still ore functioning that the house you grew up in. Sure, death threats are being thrown around along with some knives but no one means anything by it. It's how they show their love after being alone for so long. 

You learn how to be the nurse at a lightning pace. You're the only one they can go to when they need stitches or bandaging up. You won't rat them out unlike hospital staff. You take payment in hugs and gentle words rather than money. Seeing their soft side is worth more than money.

You get to pull a blanket over someone sleeping on the couch when you go out to get water early in the morning. They used to wake up when you did it, but they sleep through it now. They weren't used to being seen in such a venerable way. Nevermind being cared for with such care like that.

You're their alibi. You lie on the spot. You don't know who any of them are. You've never had contact with them. You didn't see them even if they're hiding in the closet. You keep them safe in a world that wants them dead.

You hold them when they need comfort after a night mare. You're the unofficial mom friend of the group. You hold them until they're sleeping again and even then you hold them through the night. When they wake up, they deny anything happened but you know that they'll need you again.

Cooking for them is always a hassle. They either eat like a starved animal or refuse to eat. When they eat like a teen, you're at the stove for hours making them plenty to eat. But when they refuse to eat after a mission goes wrong, it's a lot more difficult. You have to bribe them into eating like a small child. And most of the time you end up leaving the plate of food with them and leave. But every time you come back to an empty plate. They don't want to worry you.

Sometimes you get caught up in a heist. It's just an adrenaline rush at that point. They would never let anything happen to you. If something did happen yo you, all hell would break loose on whoever did it. You were untouchable at that point. You were their rock and no one was allowed to touch you other than them.

You're a gem to them and are kept away from the world. Sometimes it's annoying but you learn to like it. You have to stay safe. You can't protect yourself from the outside. You're nothing but a pet to them.

But sometimes you stop and touch the scars littering your body. None of these were there before you met them. They were all given to you as sadistic gifts for your kindness. Sometimes they were from when you scared them, and they hurt you as a "lesson." Other times they took their anger out on you for a failed mission.

It's a never ending life of fear and giving when you're dating the villain. There is no good side to dating them. It's always keeping you on your toes. But what if this villain was not the villain in the story? What if it's the hero? What then?

No one's perfect, trust me I know. I've seen plenty of heroes treat their significant others like garbage. It's the power they hold over others. It's a scary thing to see and and scarier to have happen. 

I would know. I still have the scars from him. But luck him, he gets to see his wonderful little spouse team up with the group he hates most. Maybe he should have thought twice before labeling others a villains.

Now they get to see the person they once held down in a place of power above them. And believe it or not, it's hard to forgive someone for their past wrongs. It can only be forgotten after their dead. So watch your back because I won't hesitate to stab you in it.


	2. Grandma's Vanity (finished)

A heavy canvas cloth covered the vanity mirror in Grandma’s room. I had always been told not to take the canvas off. Even if we had to move the mirror, the canvas had to stay on. It never made sense. It was just a mirror. When I was younger I would see Grandma looking into the mirror. It was only after she passed that the canvas was put over it.

Mom and Dad had gone out on a date night, leaving me alone in the house with my little brother. Tonight was the perfect time to take the canvas off. I couldn’t get in trouble if they didn’t know I had taken it off. And my little brother would be asleep far before I would so he couldn’t tattle on me. This was fool proof.

I sat down in front of the mirror in the plush chair. I had never been allowed to sit there before. I grabbed the bottom of the canvas, my hands shaking. Maybe I shouldn’t. This had been a rule for years. I could get in trouble. No, I needed to see the mirror.

I tugged at the canvas, the fabric landing on the table with a thump. A cloud of dust filled the air. This must have been stagnant since Grandma died. I gave the dust a moment to settle down before looking in the mirror. The mirror was cracked in the upper right corner but was otherwise in perfect condition.

Nothing was wrong with the mirror. I could see myself perfectly in it. Why could we never take the canvas off? I have no idea how long I had been looking in the mirror before something behind my reflection moved. I looked at whatever moved through the mirror. It was my little brother.

“Kid, what are you doing up?” I turned to face him but he wasn’t there. Maybe I’m just paranoid. My mind must have been playing tricks on me. I turned back to face the mirror but he was in the reflection again. But something seemed off about him this time.

He was paler, his eyes looked sunken into his head, his hair seemed thinner, he looked thinner. The longer I looked at his reflection the stranger it got. His nose began to bleed. His teeth started to fall out. The skin on his face started to melt off. And when I looked lower his stomach was cut open. His insides were spilling onto the plush carpet like some sick ribbons.

I looked away quickly and began to fumble with the canvas. I barely got it back over the vanity when my knees gave out. I fell back into the chair and gripped the edge of the desk. It was just my mind. It was just my mind. I told myself that. Every time I looked where he was standing there was nothing but empty space. I was paranoid that he was going to come in. It was just my mind playing tricks on me.

Again, time seemed unreal. I had no idea how long I had been sitting there calming myself down. But when I felt ready I stood up. I walked out of the room and made my way to my little brother’s room. I had to check on him. Make sure he was still asleep. Of course he would. He was a deep sleeper, he wouldn’t have woken up that fast.

His room was pitch black, just how he liked it to sleep in. My hand shook as I went to turn on the light. Something was wrong, I could feel it in my gut. Maybe he was still up and heard me. But when the lights turned on my stomach flipped.

My little brother was pinned onto the wall with large nails through his wrists, elbows, and shoulders. We didn’t own nails that big. He looked exactly like what he did in the mirror. I puked. This wasn’t real. This was a sick dream that my mind concocted. I’d wake up and he’d be smiling and leaning over my bed in the morning.

I wiped my mouth and looked back up. He was still there. The pain of bile burning my throat was real. This was real. Too real. The wall that had only had blood spatters on it now something was written on the wall in his blood.

“You shouldn’t have looked into my mirror.”


	3. In A Little Too Deep

It's been over three generations since anyone thought about leaving the bunkers. Going above ground was too dangerous. The apocalypse was still raging above. Just the idea of exposing yourself to the outside dangers sent shivers down most people's spines.  
Supplies were sent down twice a week by the people who were brave enough to fight whatever was above. All of the supplies were isolated for three days before anyone dared to touch them without protective gear. They could be contaminated. No one could get infected in the bunkers. Then they would have to be killed.  
Stories were spread by mouth through people who had been alive to see the beginning of the apocalypse. People dropped dead like flies. Some of them came back to life, the others became food for the undead. That kept the young ones down in the bunkers. Fear kept people safe, that was the saying.  
And it worked for the longest time. The only people who went up were chosen to fight in the apocalypse for the people. But that only happened once a year. Every time that event got close, anxiety rose. Mothers didn't want to loose kids. Kids didn't want to loose siblings. It was an awful happening, but it still happened.  
For the most part, everyone was happy in the underground. Everyone worked and helped as they could. The children and elderly helped with sweeping around the tile floors, carrying light things from the deliveries, sewing things, and more. The teens and middle aged people did the more difficult tasks. Working in the heating district shoveling coal and chopping wood, taking care of the majority of the deliveries, cooking, hardcore cleaning, and caring for the children.  
Everything worked out. People were happy in the underground. Their jobs shifted from district to district each day, for the most part. They were okay without seeing the sun a day in their life or feeling a breeze. But others were not so happy with those conditions. They wanted to see the above ground even if it killed them.

It's another day in the dark, heavily lit by flickering lights and torches hanging haphazardly on the walls. It's awful down here. If it weren't for the obnoxious amount of vitamin D supplements sent down most of us would be dead already. It'd be fine if some of the old ones died. Maybe then we'd be able to go up to the surface. Maybe everyone would see that they are over reacting. It's been one-hundred years since we were forced into these stupid bunkers, it can't still be going on.  
I'm pulled from my mind when something hit the back of my head. I stick my axe into the cutting block and crack my knuckles before rubbing my fingers around the spot that got hit. When I look they were covered in charcoal. I bet there's a decent sized black spot in my hair. Someone threw a piece of coal at me, and I know who it was.   
Hyde, the ban of my existence even since we were kids. He always harassed me when we had to sweep the kitchens together, he'd smack me in the ankles trying to make me fall into the cooks. When we were assigned new jobs a few years ago I was hoping we'd finally get separated. Nope, we both got put in the heating district. Now he has all the time in the world to mess with me. The only time I got away from him was sleeping, and most everyone knows I don't sleep well.  
"Come on Soot, show a reaction. I know you want to say something. Say it you coward." Hyde jeered from the opposite side of the room. He's a coward. Not daring to get close to me while I have an axe. Or maybe, that's his common sense peeking though. Not sure witch at this point.  
I ruffle my hair trying to get the charcoal out of it. I probably just smeared it around. I'm quick to brush him off, the words and the coal and go back to chopping wood. The methodic up, down, grab, repeat lulls me back into my head. It's easy to zone out when you've been doing the same thing for almost four years. 

The lunch bell rings a couple hours. Everyone is quick to get their aprons, goggles, and mask off and wash their faces and hands to get their lunch. I linger back. I've never been one to eat lunch. I've never seen a point. Breakfast hold me until dinner most days, and even if it doesn't I'd rather stay in the heating room. Anything to keep away from people.  
I lay my axe on the cutting block and move towards a pile of coal. Jobs change after lunch. I go from chopping wood to shoveling coal into the heaters in the afternoon. It's a less strenuous job than chopping wood.  
I go to grab the shovel next to my assigned heater when someone grabs my wrist. I look over my shoulder to see Jinx. She's two or so years younger than me and works in the kitchen more often than not. Jinx isn't nearly as muscular as some of the other people down here, but she managed well.  
"Soot, you're not skipping lunch today." Jinx pulls the shovel from my hand and tries to drag me to to door. I easily stay where I am and watch her in amusement.   
She been pulling this for the past week since she's found out I skip lunch. She's so much shorter than me and a lot weaker so her attempts were pretty useless. Sometimes I would humor her by going with her to the kitchens. But not today. It's not worth it. Not after Hyde decided that target practice was a good idea this morning.

Jinx huffs as she tries to pull me out of the heater room.  
"Soot! Please, for the love of whatever you believe in, come with me to the kitchens. You need to eat." Jinx stops pulling on my arm and turns to face me.  
"Just because you're two years older than me, you have to listen to me. I work-"  
"In the medical district on Tuesdays and Fridays. I know, Jinx. You tell me every time." I cringe at the sound of my voice. It's so rough and strained from inhaling ashes. That's what happens when masks were only introduced a few months ago.  
"Soot, I swear I will get someone to drag your ass down to the kitchen to eat." I roll my eyes even though she can see past my goggles.  
"Listen, you know I hate lunch. I don't eat in the middle of the day. I've never done it before, and I'm not planning on doing it anytime soon." Jinx stomps her foot as I sit down on the ground. Her cheeks puff up as she looks down at me.  
"Then," she pauses trying to come to a compromise, "At least take off your goggles and mask. It can't be comfortable having those on all day." When I don't go to take them off immediately, Jinx does it herself. She pulls the goggles away from my eyes and slips them onto her wrist. I see her nose scrunch up.  
"How can you work down here? Your face is covered in, well, soot." I shrug and take the mask off myself. She scoffs and walks over to the water bucket to, I assume, grab a rag.

I allowed Jinx to clean my face, even though I said I could do it myself. She insisted,  
"You barely take care of yourself. How can I expect you to clean your face?"   
Jinx wipes her hands on the towel and hands me my mask.  
"Please come eat?" This time it was her begging. I never understand why she wants me to eat. I'm fine with only breakfast and dinner. But, she does so much for me.  
"I'll make you a deal," Jinx's eyes almost lit up when I said that.  
"When you come down here to bring me to lunch, I'll go with you. But you have to put on a mask. You don't need your lungs ruined too." Jinx was quick to agree and said that she would follow through with the deal.  
"But," I begin again, "Since you aren't wearing a mask today, I don't have to go to lunch." Jinx let out an almost comical groan and punches me in the shoulder.   
"Fine, whatever. Lunch is almost over anyways." I nod and stand up.  
The lunch bell rings again and people start to file back into the room. I motion for Jinx to leave. She smiles at me and heads towards the door. There was no way she's going to forget that deal, is there?

It's a relief that the day is over. I can finally get away from Hyde and get the kids to bed so the older people can have some down time. It's a nightly ritual I'm used to by now.   
"Iva, get in bed now." I moved the small girl, maybe four years old, towards the shared children's bedroom.  
"But Soot, I'm not tired."  
"You may not be, but the rest of the adults are. So get your ass to bed." She huffs and crosses her arms. I roll my eyes and pick her up. Iva laughs and tries to get out of my hold. I just hold her tighter so she can't fight. I drop her into her bed and pull her blanket up. It has holes in it. Someone will have to fix it.  
"Good night everyone." A small chorus of children repeated me as I walk out.

Out by the fire everyone is sitting in a comfortable silence. I lean on a wall opposite the fire, not interested in being close to one during my down time.  
"Apparently they're picking early this year."  
"How soon?"  
"Tomorrow. I'm not sure though. It's been a rumor floating around in the communication district."  
I sigh and rub my face. Of course they were picking early again. They've been picking early for the past three years. One of these days a communicator is going to tell them to go fuck themselves. But this could be my chance.  
I could get above ground and finally see what I've wanted to. The sky, the sun, maybe the ocean. This is my chance. I can finally see the world I have been sheltered from my whole life. I should tell someone. Who? Who can I tell that I'm planning to get out of here? Jinx. She understands, I think. At least she won't tell anyone if she doesn't want to come with me.


	4. Inheritance

It's easy to be sad to see someone die, even if you barely knew them. Especially when they did something for you that meant the world.   
It's awkward not to cry at a family member's funeral, but I don't think I am. Sure, Mom is crying enough tears for the both of us but I still feel bad. Hell, my grandpa just died. I should be crying. But I don't think I can.

I have vague memories of him from when I was much younger. But that's about it.  
When I was about four or five, I remember him coming to the apartment Mom and I lived in at the time. He stayed the day and took us out for dinner.  
When I was nine he came out to the middle of no where, where Mom managed to find a cheap house for rent. He came out during the Christmas season. He didn't bring any gifts much to my nine year dismay.  
The last time I remember seeing him was when I was in tenth grade. He had been at a family reunion. At that time, I came out to him as nonbinary. I was expecting him to be mad at me but he sat me down and asked what it meant. By the end of the three days he was using my preferred names and they them pronouns.  
He meant a lot to me, even though I had limited memories of him. And as the years go on, those memories become more and more fuzzy.

But now that I was faced to cry for him after all these years, I couldn't. Maybe I used up all my tears on my college finals or on sad movie scenes, but I wasn't crying when it was appropriate.  
I don't know for how long we had been sitting in front of a casket, watching a man go one about how much of a good man Grandpa was before there was silence. Silence for the newly deceased, and a silence for the mourners. I just kept my eyes on my hands as time ticked pass.  
"Take this sweetie." A woman, who was not part of the family, next to me held up a tissue to me. She must have been a friend of Grandpa's.  
"For what, ma'am?"  
"You're crying." What? I touched my cheeks, and yup, there were tears. I guess I had been crying. I was just so numb I couldn't feel it. I nodded to the woman in appreciation and grabbed the tissue to wipe my face.   
Mom was the first one to go up and give her reading. It was only right. This was he father. I ended up zoning out during her speech. I couldn't stand thinking about what it would be like living my life without anyone who accepts me.

The funeral was about to come to an end when another man stood in front of the people. He was much younger than the man talking before, but he looked the most distressed out of anyone here.  
"I was given the job from Mr. Joel-Lewis to read his will to everyone here." The man cleared his throat,  
"His will is short, not to keep you any longer than needed. He wrote,  
'This is the will of Baron Joel-Lewis. In order to keep this short and simple, after I pass my funeral will be paid with the money allotted in my bank for this event. All of my positions, wealth, and people will be given to my grandchild, Moss Joel-Lewis. They have shown me the needed attributes to handle my fortune and care for my maids and butler. Good luck.'" The man stepped away from the front and back to where he had come from.  
My heart almost jumped into my throat. That was my name. May name in the will. My name being given everything Grandpa owned. Me, inheriting whatever Grandpa owned.

At the reception I opted to stay outside. There was no way I could face the people in there. I had just been outed by my dead grandpa and inherited everything he owned. There were going to be people with a vendetta against me for one, if not both, of those reasons. It's not that I'm ungrateful for the inheritance, I just have no idea what I just got into. Maybe he was just an old man with a nice house in the woods. But the will said maids and butler.  
My thoughts were cut short when I heard voices coming around the back of the building. Fuck, it has to be someone coming to find me. I panic and stand up. I run around the other side of the building and press into a crevasse in the wall.  
"So, are they a boy or a girl?"  
"For the last time, Luca. Master Baron said that they are neither. They are nonbinary." My brain pauses. Master? Were those Grandpa's maids or butler? I didn't have time to question it as three figures passed by my hiding spot. I held my breath as they passed, not to get found.

By the time I told Mom I was leaving, I was more stressed than when it was finals week. People had been trying to find me the entire time. I told Mom to give them my number if they needed to talk.  
I sped walked to my car with my keys between my fingers. I didn't need to have a funeral any time soon. I had been able to see the roof of my car when someone called out to me.  
"Excuse me, pardon. Are you Moss Joel-Lewis?" Damn it. Someone saw me. Maybe if I pretended not to know they were there I could get out. Yeah, that didn't happen.  
As I got closer to my car, almost within arms reach of it, a strong hand landed on my shoulder. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned around and looked wide eyed at the person who had grabbed me. A person, easily a head taller than me was standing in front of me. They had hard grey, bordering black, eyes that saw through my soul. I quickly backed against my car and tried to unlock it without looking. It was a much harder task than I anticipated.  
"Flynn, stop." Someone whined from behind the person. They looked towards where the voice was coming from. I took that small second to unlock my car, get in, and lock the doors again.  
I pushed my head against my steering wheel, the cold material soothing the on coming headache. I have no idea who these people are or what they want, but I didn't want to find out.   
I tried to put my key in the ignition while I kept my head on the wheel, but my hands were too shaky for that simple task. At least I was safe in my car. They had enough brains to not break into a car, hopefully. I sighed and closed my eyes. All was quiet for now.  
I jumped and hit my head on the head rest when someone knocked on the window. I stared at the man closest to my car door. It was the same man who read off Grandpa's will. He couldn't be too bad, but I couldn't risk opening the door.  
I somehow managed to get my key in the ignition and turn the car on. I rolled my window down about an inch, just enough to hear the man.  
"We're awfully sorry. We never meant to scare you." Mom must have picked up on that and told them.  
"We're the maids and butler of Master Baron. We were just trying to find who we should report to."  
"Maybe," my voice cracked, "take into consideration what is happening." I looked back at my wheel, tracing the invisible pattern.


	5. Men in the Mirror

It was five years ago when I first heard them.   
It was just after dusk when the first tapping happened. I went to my bedroom window to see what could have been making that sound. Nothing was there. I turned to go to bed, and the tapping happened again. I looked through the window to see nothing. I assumed it was just my imagination and went to sleep. This happened almost every night after.

Four years ago was when I first heard their voices.  
It was the normal ritual. Hear the knocking, look out the window, nothing's there, I go to bed. I was almost asleep when I heard a voice. It was gravely, hard to understand, but I still knew it was coming from within my room. I sat up and turned my bed side light on. No one was in my room other than me. This just became a new part of the ritual.

Three years ago was when I first saw them.  
I was having a hard time getting to sleep that night. There had been no knocking or talking. Just silence that night. It put me on edge. I was so used to it that not hearing anything was uncomfortable. I had decided to look through social media, trying to get to sleep. I had seen movement in my vanity mirror over the top of my phone. When I looked back up, I almost screamed. Inky figures were in the mirror. Some were close enough to be pressed to the glass. They just looked at me. Then they disappeared. The knocking happened soon after. Now I knew that it wasn't coming from the window. It was coming from my mirror.

Two year ago was the first time I talked to them.  
It had been a ritual for me to sit across from the mirror and wait until the figures came out. I had grown fond of them. They had been my only company for the longest time. I had always talked to them, trying to get to know them better. But I had always been answered with silence. Until one of the closest ones said something back.  
"I don't know what you are, but I feel like we can be friends. You know? You guys have kept me company for such a long time. I just wish you would say something back so I could make sure I'm not crazy."  
"You're not crazy. Only kind."  
I smiled at the response. I could finally understand what they had said. I had fallen asleep in front of the mirror. I didn't want them to think I wasn't appreciative of their communication efforts.

One year ago, I had touch them for the first time.  
My little cousins had been over during the day. One had managed to get into my room and crack the mirror. I had promptly yelled at them. I didn't need my friends' only mode of communication broken. That night I had done the nightly ritual and sat down to talk. The figure and I had been talking for a while when I felt something cold touch my hand. Through the new crack in the mirror, the figure managed to seep through the crack. I just smiled at them. I didn't dare push them away.


	6. Missing Person

It seemed like a good idea yesterday. To snoop around their room. But now I understand why I was never allowed in their room.  
Mom and Dad had been acting weird for the past week, or so. They had been refusing to let me outside more than usual. I wasn't allowed to watch TV unless they put it on a specific channel. They changed the curtains to layers of polyester fleece and canvas. They had nailed each side of the curtains to the wall. There was no way open them. The kids next door kept asking for me to come outside. Mom and Dad said no every time.  
I got fed up with this. I had been sheltered my whole life with them, but this was ridiculous. I wanted to go outside again. And they clearly were hiding something in their room. Last night I decided that when they went to work, I'd finally go into their room. It was a good idea. I could finally see what they were hiding.

Mom and Dad left for work today at their normal time. They set the security system so I couldn't open the windows or doors. They had done this everyday for the past week. As soon as I was sure they were gone and not coming back I hauled ass up to their room. They never locked it so it was easy to get into. I paused when I looked into it. The room looked perfectly normal. A bed, some shelves, and a couple of pictures of up on the wall. I began my search in their closet. If they were hiding something it had to be in the closet or under the bed.  
My search in the closet was fruitless. Only clothing and old photo albums were in there. I made my way to the bed. I flipped the blanket up and was instantly greeted with a cardboard box. I pulled it out from under the bed, which was much more difficult than I anticipated. It was closed with two flaps over the others. It was nice because I could return it to it's original state without it seeming suspicious.  
The box was full of papers. I gave them the benefit of the doubt and just thought it was old legal documents or something. Boy was I wrong. Inside were hundreds of missing person's news clippings and flyers. Every one had my face on it.  
They easily dated back to when I was an infant. But all of the clippings were from Arkansas, we lived in Idaho. I felt my heart race pick up as I flipped through the papers. More and more clippings kept bringing me up.  
'Missing Infant'  
'Two Years Since Jack Steller's Disappearance'  
'Steller Kid, Still Missing'  
I shut the box with shaky hands and shoved it back under the bed. I flipped the blanket back and left the room. Had I been kidnapped by these people? From what those said, I was. My name was Jack? No way, they've always called me Andrew. But maybe it was to keep me out of the public eye. I had no idea, but I was going to find out what was going on.

I spent the rest of the day in the attic, trying to process what I had found.


	7. Let's Play a Game

The checkers board was set up on the antique table. The worn red and black pucks' shiny varnish was rubbed off from years of games. A young woman was kneeling on a vintage pillow and staring us down from the other side of the table. She had a small smile as she looked at her opponents. Even though her bangs covered her eyes fully, the people in front of her could tell she had a devious glint to them.  
The group of teen, heroes in training, sat in front of her, with only one at the table. The other five were fanned behind the player. Everyone waited for something to be said by the woman. The host. The villain.  
"Izuku," the soft voice broke the silence. The green haired boy looked at the woman.  
"it's only polite to let my guests take the first move." She motioned for the board. Izuku nodded slowly. His hands shook as he reached for a puck only to be interrupted.  
"Better not screw this up, Deku." Bakugo chimed in with his two-cents.  
"I won't." Izuku said with little confidence. He moved one of his black pucks forward on the board.  
"Let the game commence." The woman slid her puck forward with little to no hesitation. Yeah, she knew what she was doing.

"I win," The woman flipped the last black puck like a coin and caught it in her perfectly manicured hand.  
"And that means, all of you lost." Her tone changed from that of a child bragging of their victory to that of a mother scolding her kid.  
"And that means I get my prize." The teens looked at each other, back to the woman, and back to each other. Without another word, they all ran for the exit. But the woman was quicker.  
She threw six black pucks at the teens, one for each, and every single one hit them all in the backs. A soft glowing substance came from their backs and went into the pucks. All of them collapsed in front of their puck. The teens looked half dead.  
The woman walked over and picked each one up. The smooth black pucks fit between her fingers perfectly.  
"How rude," she leered down at the teens.  
"I win fair and square, and you try to take my prize from me. Too bad you won't be leaving any time soon." The pucks were tucked into a pocket within her dress.  
"You hag! You stupid bitch!" Bakugo spat at the woman, though his words lacked any real threat since his body was incapacitated.  
"Pardon," a soft laugh bubbled up in the woman's chest but quickly turned into a cackle.  
"You think you're in a position to do name calling? How pathetic! Is that how you got so far in hero society? Trust me, us villains are much less forgiving." The woman kicked Bakugo in the ribs, a grunt coming from the blondes mouth.  
"You're nothing but a pathetic teen. You can't do anything to stop me. I have half of you life force in that puck. Hell, if I wanted to I'd crush the damn thing and kill you myself."  
"You'll never get away with this." Uraraka wheezed out,  
"Our classmates and the pros will come to get you." The woman laughed harder, the cackled turning into an insanity laced laughing fit.  
"I hope so, I'm still bored!"

Hope was fading from everyone's mind. Most of the students in the Hero department had lost to the woman. And the pros had failed to beat her too. The woman had collected half of each person's life force within a part of the game. Some were trapped in a checker puck, others in a card or pool ball. But almost anyone who could have beat her was incapacitated.  
"These are Japan's top heroes and students? Pathetic! You lost to a woman to simple games. Hell, it would have been easy for a child to do it. You all even had an advantage."  
"What would that be?" Monoma growled at the woman. The woman barked out a laugh.  
"I'm blind! I have no eyes!" She lifted her bangs to show her eyes scarred shut from gashes through the middle.  
"You lost to a blind women!


	8. A Crowbar

The teenager stood over the slumped body of the evil king. I had been trying to kill him for months and this brat takes away my payment? No way, I had to kill them now.  
"What did you do?" One of the king's many servants cried and ran to their master.  
"Have you never heard of blunt force trauma? I just hit him with my crowbar. You should be happy. He did not pass the vibe check." They turned away from the king, clearly happy with what they did. They made eye contact with me and I immediately knew how they killed the king so easily. The devious look in their eyes was complemented by the blood spatters on their face. A tiny smirk danced on their lips as the walked towards me.  
"Is something wrong, old man?" I scoffed. I couldn't have been that much older than them, I was only in my twenties. They sneered as they swung a large hooked piece of metal onto their shoulder. I had never seen anything like it before.  
"That was my job you took. You stole my money."  
"I didn't steal jack. You clearly had no idea how to kill someone so a more experience person had to be sent to end him." They walked past me, a small bounce in their step.  
"Who sent you?"   
"No of your business." They didn't even have the common courtesy to look at me when the answered. Bloodied footsteps followed the teenager as they left the castle.

How did I loose them? I looked high and low for the teen as I moved through the cursed forest. The bloody footsteps ended nearly two miles ago, and yet I had a feeling that they had kept moving. My suspicion was confirmed when I saw their footsteps in the mud half a mile back. But at this point, I had no clue where they could have been.  
The forest had been getting less light as I ventured further into it. A bad feeling fell over me as I heard something move behind me. I drew my dagger ready to attack whatever was behind me. I could see nothing but something had to be there.  
"I don't appreciate being followed." I jumped back around to see the teen. They had managed to change into clean clothing and wash their face in the time I had lost track of them. The large piece of metal hung from their belt at this point and they now had a small wicker basket around their wrist.  
"I think it's fair to follow you since you took my only income for the past few months."  
"And it'd be fair if I killed you for stalking me. But I won't because I have morals." The teen walked to the side of me and crouched down. I looked down at what they were looking at and frowned. There was nothing there.  
"What are you looking-"  
"Duck!" They yelled at me while pulling their metal bar from their belt. I didn't want to be on the receiving end of that. There were two dull thuds following their warning. I looked behind myself again to see an injured carnivorous elk laying on the ground. The teen muttered a curse under their breath before walking over to it and finishing the job by crunching the elk's skull in.  
I expected the teen to leave the elk promptly but they started to dismantle the animal.   
"What are you doing?" I ask in a hushed voice. There had to be more beasts near by and the smell of elk blood would attract them.  
"You were bitching and moaning that I was taking your money so I'm getting stuff to sell while you get the money for killing that king. Hand me your dagger." They held their hand out. I hesitantly handed to them. They made quick work of the elk. They took the elk's head and legs then carved off a decent amount of meat from it. They wrapped it in cloth then put it all in a bag. It had to be a bag of holding of some sort, nothing else could have held that much stuff. They stood up, wiped the blade on their pants, handed me my dagger back, and began jogging the way they had been going.

I had managed to keep up with the teen even though they were much more nimble than me. They had avoided any of my questions by running faster when I asked them anything. We had run three miles from the elk, easily, before that stopped in a clearing. I sat quickly to catch my breath as they dropped their bag and basket. They had yet to take their metal out of their belt again. It was an intriguing weapon of choice.  
"What is that thing you have on your belt?" I asked yet another question. I wasn't expecting an answer but they responded.  
"It's a crowbar. It's a piece of iron I use for my weapon. My Gran enchanted it so it wouldn't break." They pulled the pieces of elk out of the bag and laid it on the ground.  
"Shouldn't we be in a more sheltered area? We're exposed?"  
"We're fine. I come here every other week. There's a strong magical barrier around this clearing so it's safe for travelers to rest. It's been around for a long ass time. Dagger?" They held out their hand again. A strange way to ask for something. I handed it to them again since they were clearly not a threat to me.  
They got to work quickly. They began to skin the parts of the body they had cut off. They worked quick, like they had done this before.  
"I never got your name." I tried my most common question again.  
"I go by whatever people call me. Most Mushroom, Acorns, Bone, Pelt, whatever they think fits me best. Take your pick." They managed to rip the antlers out of the elk's head with little to no struggle. It just popped out from the skull.  
"I guess I'll call you Bone. But why do people call you those things?"  
"I sell stuff for a living. Those are the things people associate with me most commonly. Sometimes I get called Herbs, Meat, or Rock. Doesn't matter to me."  
I stopped asking questions and just watched Bone work. They had wrapped the exposed meat back in the fabric. They had grabbed some large jars from their bag and put the eyes, facial bones, skull fragments, and the hooves into three. The leg bones were wrapped together in fabric. All of the components that Bone saved were put back into the bag they had. The stuff that couldn't be salvaged, most meat from around the face, was taken and thrown into the near by forest. Rustling could be heard from near the clearance. Whatever was in the forest must have been waiting for that.

The farther we walked together, Bone began to talk more. Well, answer more of my questions I had for them. They had a pretty normal life for the most part. They would forage to get flora and fauna to sell in towns they pass through. They had managed to travel through most big cities in the continent at that point. They're family lived in a coastal town, almost three hundred miles from where I lived. Bone had been hunting and gathering for almost two years at that point which was impressive since they were only seventeen. Bone seemed to be most at peace when we were in deeper parts of forests, and yet they would never ask my question on why that was.  
The next time we stopped, I could see the town on the horizon. It couldn't have been more than a mile away. And the forest we had to go through to get there wasn't too thick either. Bone and I sat on a rock on the edge of a river that ran though town to rest.  
"Why are you following me?" Bone asks while looking at the water. They seemed confused and upset at the same time.  
"Well, I started following you because I was angry that you killed the King and took my payment. I guess I stuck with you because you saved my ass." They didn't look convinced.  
"You aren't, well, afraid of me? I mean you watched me kill that dude with no remorse and dismantle an elk twice my size." They let out a dry laugh, "How do you know that I was safe to be around?" I paused. Bone had a good point. They had done things that would be considered red flags, and yet the possibility of them hurting me never crossed my mind.  
"No clue, you just


	9. Agent of Chaos

He, the youngest prince, was a self proclaimed agent of chaos, but he wasn't wrong. Not in the least. But his actions were mild in comparison to hers. His younger sister, the only princess of the kingdom, was worse by a thousand fold. She was put under constant surveillance from two royal guards. They never lasted more than a couple weeks. She was too good at what she did. And maybe if her parents hadn't taught her how to fashion any household item into a weapon, the guards would last longer. But that was not the case, and today new guards had to be chosen to watch the princess.  
Boys and men of all ages lined up at the castle to try and become a royal guard. They had no idea what was hidden behind the walls or what they were signing up for. They thought they were going to go to battle and bring glory to their families, not watch a homicidal seventeen year old princess.  
The princess sat in her throne, in between her four older brothers. Close family was the only people who could get close to her without dying. A small smirk played on her lips as she watched the plethora of men being accepted or denied the position of their dreams. Most of them got the job and would serve as nothing as servants, that would clearly piss of many of them, until it was their turn to watch the princess then inevitably die.  
It was a good selection this year. There were plenty of young men, probably hoping to court her, and older men who were tough from years of work. The princess rarely said anything during these pickings, but her face said everything. Though the nobles choosing the people always ignored how she reacted to each man. It was irritating.  
"M'lady Quin, is everything okay. You look quiet sour." A female servant asked the girl. The princess never harmed the women, only men. No one knew why. It was something that the King and Queen wanted to find out.  
"Everything's fine Ava, I'm just unpleased with the people being chose. They're all bound to irritate me in one way or another." Quin responded and shifted. The large dresses she was forced into always made her uncomfortable. They were too gaudy in her opinion. She would always prefer to wear trousers and a shirt to a dress.

The choosing lasted almost five hours. Quin was getting irritated by that point and was thoroughly relieved when the last man was rejected. Almost five dozen men had been chosen. By that point her brothers were making bets on how long all of them would last. They knew they wouldn't be around too long, and were willing to make a game out of it. Quin, on the other hand, already knew about how long each man would last. And none of them were more than a few weeks some of them a single day. She was excited to see if their times would change.  
Ava walked back over to Quin with a nervous look on her face. After the men were picked Quin insisted on seeing all of them closer up. It was always a tense time for the people who knew Quin's tendencies, and a lot of the time this meeting heavily effected how long the men would stay alive after being put with Quin.

Quin walked down the line slowly, her hands clasped behind her back. A pristine smile on her face, luring the men into a false sense of security. She would stop every four men to see how they each reacted. Then they would be good to go. Most of them said nothing, like they had been instructed to. But some of them ended up speaking without permission. Quin would say nothing, and Ava was instructed to say nothing as well.   
Quin was almost done with her silent interrogation when she stopped early. She stopped in front of a boy, he couldn't have been much older than her and stood barely and inch taller than her. Given she was wearing heels, he probably was taller than she gave him, but still he was much too young to be there.  
"What's your name?" Quin's playful tone broke through the tense air. Her smile changed from a kind one into a mischievous one.  
"Robin, Princess." He responded without looking her in the eyes. He was hiding something and Quin was bound to find out. She left from in front of him and continued down the line. It was a quick process, and all of the men were let go. But Quin kept her eyes on Robin as he left. Something about him intrigued her. Ava had a bad feeling in her stomach, Robin was probably going to become a toy to Quin very quickly.

Quin insisted on wearing clothing like her brothers when she didn't need to be seen by the public. Button down shirts, long pants, and boots. She claimed it was more comfortable and easier to move in, and she wouldn't be wrong. Especially when she was trying to get away from the guards assigned to her.  
"Princess, please, get back hear." Both of the men chased Quin through the garden's maze. She had been through it so many times she could finish it with her eyes closed. And that's why it was the first place she fled when eyes were off of her for a second.  
Quin's foot steps were as loud as ever through the hedges, and yet the men could not find their way through the maze. They were stuck in the middle and stuck listening to Quin move around them.  
"You're stupider than I thought. You can't even find your way through this maze. It sucks to be you. Imagine how the King and Queen will react when they find out the royal guards couldn't keep up." Her laugh rang through the bushes, birds taking flight at the sound. It wasn't an ugly sound though, it was just a taunting one.  
Quin slowed her pace and kept her footsteps quiet. She brushed her finger tips against the perfectly trimmed hedges. The rough leaves scratched at her skin, leaving a satisfying burn behind. She rarely had the chance to do this, it was like heaven on Earth when she could. Quin could see the exit of the maze, a servant working on trimming the leaves. She stopped a few feet from the worker. They looked unimaginably nervous. Their hands were shaking and they were sweating bullets.  
"If you're worried about trimming the hedge, it looks perfectly fine. You've done a good job. You can leave and take the next hour off." Quin walked a few paces forward before stopping. It was an older servant who knew what she did to the guards she was put with.  
"But ma'am, it doesn't look right. It would against my word to leave." She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.  
"I know you're told everything has to be perfect, but trust me, it doesn't. I'm the only one who comes down this way unless there's a special event. And there isn't going to be another event for a few months. Everything looks great here. Take the next hour off. Orders from the princess." The servant looked like they were on the verge of tears. Something was up. The only person who made people cry in this palace was her. And most of the time it was accidental.  
"Princess, you don't understand. I have to stay here and work." Quin scowled at the response. Her word was taken the most seriously in the palace due to her reputation, so why was this servant not listening. They had been in the palace for over five years.  
"I demand an answer, why do you 'have' to stay here? And remember to answer truthfully." The servant's gaze shifted from Quin, to the hedge, and back to Quin. That was a good enough answer for her. Something was in the hedge that wasn't supposed to be there.

Quin watched the snake thrash under her foot. It's head crushed under foot and yet the nearly eight foot serpent's body moved like it was possessed. The body was hitting at Quin's leg, making noises like a whip when it hit her boot.  
It was a rare snake to come across in that part of the world. The only way it could have gotten on to palace ground was if a noble or trusted person could have brought it in.  
"Who brought this god forbidden snake into the garden?" Quin's tone was dark, bordering furious. And yet she kept her voice even and quiet.  
"One of your guards, Princess. He came to me early in the morning and told me to follow. He shoved it into the hedge and told me if I moved from this place, it would attack me. He laughed and left." Quin looked behind her back, the faint sound of footsteps coming closer. An evil smirk played on her lips. She may have been a cold blooded killer, she still knew what people had to die, and people who had been loyal to the family for a long time time were not one of them.  
"Take a seat, please. We'll wait here until the guards get here and you'll point the one out that left this," she motioned to the snake, "in my garden. After that you have the rest of the day off." The servant nodded and sat on the ground. The two people only had to wait for a short period of time until the guards came around the corner.


	10. Giggles in the Lake

Every night after the sun set, the lake behind my house came to life. I would sit behind the ring of mushrooms that surrounded it and watched the scene unfold. It starts with what looks like fireflies. They dance on top of the water, kissing the surface with the gentlest touch. The come the animals from the forest. Some look normal, like deer and foxes. But other are not so normal. Tall beings that look like deer but stand on their hind legs are the most common for me to see. They always keep their eyes on me as I watch, but Grandma always told me to never go past the mushroom circle after dark. Lastly, and my favorite part, the merpeople in the lake come out to play. Well play as in getting an animal within an arms length and drag them to their watery death. It was a gruesome thing to watch, but as the years progressed I became used to the event. In these woods it was an eat or be eaten world.  
Occasionally a special kind of merperson would come up from their depths. Sirens, or what I identifies as sirens. They always ate well. The tantalizing voices and heavenly songs in a language I had no idea how to speak always got them a hefty meal. I always feel tempted to go past the ring when I hear them sing, but I know better than that. After the sun sets, I am the prey. And easy prey at that. But there was a simple way to block out the urge to go into the ring. Sing back.  
The sirens were shocked the first time I sung back to them. All of the beings eyes were on me. I sang a song I had memorized as a young girl in middle school. It has a similarly eerie sound to it like the sirens' but it wasn't as alluring as the sirens' song. Sometimes, when I was feeling risky, I would bring out my guitar and play it along to whatever the sirens were singing. It was a cruel duo, but oh so pretty to hear.

I smiled as I watched my younger cousins come barreling towards me. They were going to be staying with me for about three weeks while their parents went on a business trip. My brother knew the dangers of leaving them in the house, and yet he still insisted that I watched them. Apparently their babysitter had quit last minute and he had no one else to ask. I was reluctant to agree, but finally caved in. The kids listened well and I could probably get them to listen easily.  
The four kids, two boys, a girl, and an agender child, followed me up the cobblestone path. The soft click of shoes on the stone echoed through the empty forest around up.  
"Alright kids, there are some ground rules to follow while you're here." All four of them looked at me. The oldest, Seamus, rolled his eyes. He clearly didn't like authority figures. My brother had warned me about him.  
"Rule one, the basement is off limits without my supervision. There's a bunch of stuff down there I don't want any of you touching. If you want to go down, ask me to go with you." The three younger kids gave me a thumbs up.  
"Rule two, stay inside after dark. Creatures come out after dark and I don't need any of you getting hurt." Again, the three younger gave me indication that they understood. Seamus just glared at me.  
"Third, do not go into the lake. It's deeper than it seems and the things that live in there are ridiculously dangerous. Those are the three rules you guys are going to have to follow while you're here. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns please voice them."

I showed the kids to the room they would be sleeping in. The boys, Seamus and Lev, got a room and the other two, Iris and Mist, shared another room. I gave them the grand tour of the house and showed them where thing were.  
After the tour I let the kids go off by themselves, but Seamus stayed. He had never me out of his range of vision. I felt like he had something against me, but I don't know what.  
"I know what this place is." He finally spoke after the younger kids were definitely out of earshot.  
"It's a congregation place for the supernatural and stuff like that." He crossed his arms and looked at me with angry eyes.  
"What the hell are you trying to pull? Only three rules, and vague reasoning, you clearly have more to say than what you did." I sighed and rubbed my face. He must have listened in on his parents when they were talking.  
"Come with me. We're just going to the kitchen." He followed me ask I walked the old halls back to the kitchen. I grabbed a fresh apple and sat at the table. Seamus sat across from me and looked me up and down.  
"You're right, this is a place for the supernatural to be. And yes, I wanted to say more than I said. But I don't want to freak out your little siblings. You may be able to handle the shock that comes when you find out that fairies and merpeople and goblins exists. But you siblings? They would probably loose their minds." I sat the apple on the table and opened a window above the kitchen sink. I grabbed a small bell and rang it gently. I returned to the table and sat down.  
"I'm doubting your father told you about this, so you must have eavesdropped. But whatever you heard is not the full story."


	11. Auction

At these kinds of auction, people are bidding a lot more than money. Poor families will bid off their children and livestock. Rich families will bid off land, houses, and cars. And yet, the winner does not always bid the most. That is decided by owner of the auction site. There was one place where any person could get to to partake in the auction, so the government had to borrow the plot of land when there was an auction. The only catch was that the owner could decide who won each item and they got to keep part of the profit from each item. All of the profit if it was something they owned or took from previous auctions. The problem was that the owner never let themselves be seen by anyone. Only their voice could be heard in the open area where the auctions took place. And yet every one who went on their property held the utmost respect for the land and the owner. If they didn't, they were kicked off of the land.  
"The man offering hid daughter and award winning bull gets the harp." The owner's voice easily overpowered the crowd's chatter. An older man cheered and threw his cap in the air. He walked the bull and daughter up to the stage, the small girl sobbing into the bull's neck. The man went to get the harp but as soon as he touched it, the harp turned from a brilliant gold color to a dirty bronze color.  
"What the hell is this?" He growled at the land owner. The soft giggle of the owner echoed in the open space.  
"I said you won the harp, I never said you were worthy of it." The man let out an annoyed scream towards the owner.  
"You good for nothing bitch, you tricked me!" The giggling stopped and was replaced by silence. Everyone who had been there more than once knew what was about to happen.  
"Alright folks," the owner spoke again, "The harp will be available next week after it's fixed. The new object for auction is this ungrateful bastard. We'll start small and make our way up." The man's eyes grew wide. He tried to run off stage but eldritch chains shot up from in the stage and caught his legs. They pulled back, making the man fall on his face and pulled him into the middle of the stage. His arms were caught by the chains swiftly and he was forced to look at the crowd.  
"Let's see what people will be willing to pay for a hard working man. But Governor, feel free to handle these next few objects. I have to fix the harp."

The harp, bull, and child were all taken into a dark back room. The child's sobs had subsided into small sounds by that time. The people who brought the things back left quickly. A light flickered on in the middle of the room. That must have set off a chain reaction because lights flicked on all around the room. In the room was shiny things aplenty and valuables galore.  
"You poor child," a soft voice spoke from the dark corner of the room, "How awful of a father he was. But don't worry, I'll keep you safe." A person walked towards the child and bull. Their body was translucent and their clothing loose fitting.


End file.
